


The Legacy of Merlin

by Skylar_Inkstone



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-02 02:46:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17879621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylar_Inkstone/pseuds/Skylar_Inkstone
Summary: When Marlee finds herself in the Potterverse, she is determined not to let anyone die. All the while she plots pranks for a good laugh on everyone, most of all a certain Headmaster. Natrually, chaos ensues.





	1. Chapter 1

The sudden noise was deafening, as I suddenly found myself sitting in the middle of a bustling road. However, strangely enough, it was bustling because it was filled with people, not cars. And the people...  
"No," I thought to myself. "No, no, no, no, no, nononononono." God so help me but... This had better be a dream.  
I stood up swiftly, only to be nearly squashed by a giant of a man. Said giant swung his arm and accidentally sent me flying.  
The pain was enough to tell me the truth.  
"Hagrid," I gasped in realization, trying to breathe. There was no way the half-giant could have heard me, but he was making his way over to me in any case.  
"Sorry abo't that. I'm so big, I don't always see where me arms go."  
"It's okay," I told him, sounding rather winded. "Am I in Diagon Ally?"  
Hagrid looked concerned.  
I turned and noticed a boy who looked to be about eleven years old standing a few feet away, watching me curiously. I didn't even need to see the scar to know who he was. I've had read his description thousands of times--bright green eyes, messy black hair, taped up glasses, rather thin with his 'knobby' knees....my own knees buckled and I almost fell to the ground.  
I mean, forget Hagrid! Standing only about two feet away from me was Harry Potter!  
"I....um...." I gasped, my brain running about a thousand miles in the space of seconds. "How is this happening?! You know what? Never mind that," I thought, "I mean, who cares? I'm standing right in front of Harry freaking Potter!"  
And then of course that's when my snarkiness kicked in.* "So you're Harry Potter," I say. "Hm. Don't look like much."  
He frowned, uncertain how to react. Hagrid didn't seem to notice that I had said anything at all. His bushy eyebrows were drawn together and he was looking at me worriedly.  
"Yer seem kinder faint," he said.  
Harry nodded a little to himself. I could almost hear his brain going, "of course, she's delirious or something...."  
"Nah," I said, giddiness sweeping through me, "I'm fine." In actuality I'm more than fine. I'm floating. I can't believe this is happening. I mean, this couldn't possibly be a dream, Hagrid took care of that doubt. I also can't believe that I just insulted The Boy Who Lived. Oh well. Harry had never been my favorite character anyways. That title always went to Snape.  
Harry seemed to have decided to ignore my earlier comment. He opened his mouth to speak. "What's that," he asked, pointing. I glanced down to where his finger indicated.  
Oh.  
On my forearm is a tattoo. Not a real one, of course. Mom would kill me. But one of those fake applicable ones that wash off in the shower. The tattoo says, in bold, curling black letters, 'ALWAYS', but the "A" is actually the symbol of the Deathly Hallows.  
Whoops. I quickly raised my arm to cover it when suddenly I stopped and pursed my lips. Why shouldn't Harry know? About everything? Why did so many people have to die when I had the knowledge to prevent it? And now I suddenly have an overwhelming urge to look Harry dead in the eye and go, 'You're a horcux, Harry'. So naturally, because suppressing my inner fangirl wasn't something I ever did, I say, "you're a horcux Harry." And right then and there, I decided that maybe, just maybe, I was also entitled to have some fun while I was here.  
"I'm a... What?"  
Oh. Right. He wouldn't know until... Damn. But good grief, his face is so funny. I burst out laughing.  
Once I catch my breath I answer him. "A horcux. Nasty spell, er, ritual or whatever it's classified as. Basically when someone kills another person and preforms the spell, they can split their soul. Tommy had already split his soul so many times that when the killing curse rebounded, he left behind more than he intended."  
Both Harry and Hagrid looked at me slightly confused and mostly scared.  
"Tommy," I sighed. "As in Tom? Tom Marvolo Riddle? As in 'I am Lord Voldemort'? Voldemort?"  
Their faces showed even more fear now.  
"Oh, honestly," I cried, stealing Hermione's catchphrase. "Don't either of you play anagrams." I then held out my right hand towards them, palm facing outwards. "You know what? Never mind. Don't answer that."  
Hagrid seemed to twitch. "Yer shouldn't've said tha'..." He mumbled.  
I turned to raise an eyebrow at him. Really? I shouldn't have said that? Then again, I did just spoil the whole second and sixth book. That was a good reason, I supposed.  
Still, I hadn't known that Hagrid had actually known all that to begin with. Had Hagrid known about the horcruxes? I don't recall that ever being a thing.  
"Yer shouldn't've said his name," Hagrid continued, and then I realized what he meant. "It's cursed, that is."  
"Well, eventually it is, but you can say his name for a good five or six books at least," I reassured him.  
He looked at me funny.  
"Books?"  
"Er... Years. Sorry, my bad." Internally I slapped myself on the forehead. Doy! I'm actually in the books. Somehow. Wow, I’m taking this oddly well, aren’t I?  
Hagrid looked at me hard.  
"What's yer name," he asked.  
"Oh," I said, feeling foolish for not having given it to him in the first place. "I'm Marlee Merotaive."  
"Is yer parents nearby," he questioned.  
"Nope," I replied cheerfully. "But considering that no one in my family is magic, this isn't a surprise."  
"So you're kind of like me," Harry said quietly.  
"Like him? How..? Oh, yes, right." "I am not magic either," I assure him, plastering a grin onto my face.  
"O' course yer magic! Yer wouldn't've been able ter come here if yer weren't!"  
It was my turn to give Hagrid a funny look.  
"Muggle parents, siblings, grandparents and guardians must be able to come here when accompanying their magical children, grandchildren and wards."  
"But yer said tha' yer all by yerself. How are yer here?"  
I shrugged. "I don't know. My guess is magic. I don't think my parents even exist here."  
Hagrid heaved a sigh. "If yer all alone I reckon tha' yer should come wit' me and Harry." Clearly he decided to ignore my comment about my parents not existing.  
"Happy too," I agreed. "Heading towards Gringotts?"  
Harry gaped at me.  
I rolled my eyes. "It is rude to stare you know. I mean, you should know, being Harry Potter and all."  
"Er... Right." The poor kid did look really put off.  
The three of us started to make our way down the road, the huge white building beckoning us. As we walked, I looked everywhere I could, wanting to see the whole entity of Diagon Ally. That's how I caught a look at my reflection.  
I don't know why my fake tattoo transferred over, because I was clearly in a body younger than sixteen. My guess was that I'd be about eleven, because things always work out too conveniently in books. And exactly how convenient would it be if I was to be in the same year as Harry?  
I continued walking like it didn't bother me. My hair was a disgusting mess.  
"Um..." I looked over at Harry.  
"Yes," I asked, an eyebrow raised.  
"I was wondering," he started, scuffing his left shoe on the ground, disturbing a loss pebble, "if you know about Hogwarts?"  
I blinked. Then I blinked again.  
"What kind of question is that," I asked. "It's like asking what Quidditch is!"  
"Quidd...itch," Harry repeated weakly.  
I pretended to look shocked. Then I sighed. "Yes, I know about Hogwarts. And quidditch is a wizarding sport that combines a bunch of muggle ones, but they also toss in flying on broomsticks for good measure."  
"Okay... And Hogwarts?"  
I spread my arms out. "What do you want to know? The Room of Requirement is located on the seventh floor if my memory serves correctly."  
"Um... I wanted to know about it, just in general."  
I liked this version of Harry. He wasn't annoying in the first two books as he was in the rest of them. Bossy Gryffindor.  
"Well, Hogwarts is set up with four different Houses. Each House has specific traits, though it does tend to overlap. You get sorted into said Houses by way of a magically enchanted hat."  
"And the four Houses," Harry asked eagerly as we walked up the stairs to Gringotts.  
"Ravenclaw, the smart House. Gryffindor, the brave House. Hufflepuff, the loyal House. Slytherin, the clever House."  
"Isn't being smart and being clever the same thing?"  
"And this is why you are a Gryffindor my friend," I reply. "No. They are not. Being smart is just being able to retain information and using it in an exact scenario. Being clever, and here is where it overlaps, is to be able to take that information and applying it outside of set parameters. Also, please keep in mind, when talking to others, that none of the Houses are good or evil. Sure, Voldemort is from Slytherin. But so was Merlin. And Gryffindor had some pretty nasty blokes too."  
"Like who?" Harry was going to regret asking that question.  
"James Potter, Siruis Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew for starters. Not that they were necessarily bad people, but they were pretty rotten when attending Hogwarts. Hm... Maybe not Lupin, but Peter was particular nasty. I mean, after school. Still is, I mean with betraying your parents like that." I shake my head as Harry looks at me, shocked, while Hagrid steers is towards the cart Griphook was leading us towards, clearly thinking that I was absolute bonkers.  
*I’d like to interject and note that I was in shock at the time.


	2. Chapter 2

After Harry got all of his wizarding things, Hagrid and I headed off on a train.

"So where to now," I asked.

"Ter see Dumbledore."

I nodded, but kept quiet. The train was relatively silent and for the first time in hours, I could actually think.

" _I'm in the freaking world of Harry Potter. I mean, I know I should consider myself lucky, after all, this is every Potterhead's dream but... My god, I don't even have a home to go to. Totally Dumbledore's type to send me off to an orphanage. Stupid old coot._ " Obviously, I am not a fan of Dumbledore's. Unless, of course, we're talking about Starkid's version. That Dumbledore is hilarious.

I must have fallen asleep, because we were suddenly coming to a stop.

"Here we are," Hagrid said, getting up.

With only one choice, I followed.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

It was Professor Sprout who greeted us in the alleyway Hagrid had strode to.

"Who is this," she asked curiously.

"A Slytherin who will probably end up in Gryffindor for convenience. Although, any House would be quite a feat, considering I'm not magic."

Professor Sprout looked at me.

I sighed. "Marlee Merotaive. Pleasure, Professor." I stuck out my hand. It went ignored. I don't blame her, I am a pretty shady character after all. Spouting things crazy things like me not being magic, an intimidating eleven year old body and a rat’s nest for hair. Yup. I was most definitely the definition of shady.

"Rubeus!"

Said person shifted around uncomfortably. Professor Sprout was clearly furious with him. So I came to his rescue, as Hagrid was really quiet terrible at handling himself in these sort of situations.

"Professor, I assure you that Hagrid has nothing to do with my knowledge of the wizarding world. As a matter of fact, nobody anywhere on this planet does, I'm assuming that I got transported to another realm of reality, a different dimension, if you will."

She continued to death glare. Both of us.

Whoops. Guess that didn't help much.

"Well," the Herbology professor sighed, "what's done is done. What were you planning in doing with her Rubeus?"

"Take 'er ter talk ter Dumbledore."

“I mean, duh! He’s Dumbledore!” I pretend to swoon, just for comedic affect. “Oh,” I sigh exaggeratedly. “He’s the savior of our savior of the savior of the wizarding world.” Both adults were staring at me. “What,” I ask, smoothing my now rumpled clothes out. “It’s true.”

“Let’s just go,” sighed Professor Sprout, holding her hand out for Hagrid to grab it. I took hold of her other arm, without need for instruction.

“Is this safe,” I ask.

My answer, was Professor Sprout apperating right outside of Hogwarts grounds.

“Yup,” I say weakly. “That’s great.” I run into some bushes to go throw up into.

\------------------------------------------------------------

 After waiting a half an hour outside of the office of the one Professor Dumbledore, Hagrid finally came down the revolving stairs and sent me up.

“Professor Dumbledore,” I say, crossing over to the desk in the middle of the room, holding my hand out to the so called ‘illustrious’ wizard.

“Ms. …?”

“Marlee Merotaive, muggle.”

Dumbledore smiled his grandfatherly smile, taking my hand and giving it a firm shake. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He withdrew his hand from my grasp. “May I ask exactly what you mean by muggle?”

“I am well aware of the fact that, normally, most muggles cannot see Hogwarts or Diagon Ally. I do not understand why I can, but I assure, that, at least where I come from, the wizarding world does not exist.”

Dumbledore frowned. “I do not believe that I understand.”

I sighed. “Basically,” I started, “I come from a different dimension. In my world, not only am I 16, but this whole universe?” I wave my around hand erratically. “This whole universe exists only in a book series. Only on paper, on the big screen, in hearts and imaginations.”

Dumbledore’s frown only deepened.

“I know this sounds like I belong in St. Mungo’s, but I’m telling the truth.” Then it hit me. “And you better not be using Legilimency on an under-aged.”

“I assure that even if I had such an ability I would not-“

“Shove it,” I told him rudely. “You may have achieved greatness and you may have protect the wizarding world from your boyfriend but do not presume to think that I am making this all up. I assure you, I know exactly what is going on here.”

“Ms. Merotaive, I kindly ask that you do not-“

“Speak to you in a way that suggests that I don’t give a fuck.” I scoff, shaking my head. “Professor, I am mentally 16. Do not presume to pull the wool over my eyes.”

Dumbledore just shook his head.

I sigh. “I won’t apologize. But I am willing to be sorted now, if the hat determines that I am, indeed, magical.”

Dumbledore clapped his hands together. “That is a perfect plan.”

“But,” I say, holding up my hand, “I want Professors McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick and Sprout to be present, for if I am sorted now, there is no reason for me to be sorted on the first of September. Whoever is head of my House should be present at the sorting.”

Dumbledore’s brow furrowed. “All the heads of Houses are very busy and-“

“And it is a rare occurrence for the hat to take longer than four minutes on deciding on which House the student will be placed in. Surely the Professors can come for just four minutes.”

“That… Is very logical.”

“I know,” I reply with a grin. “It’s one of my numerous talents.”

Also wow. That was easy manipulation. How exactly is this man the reason why Voldemort’s downfall was possible?

When all the head of Houses were gather with Dumbledore and I in his office, he presented me with the Sorting Hat.

“I’m guessing Gryffindor,” I say cheerfully. “Even though I’d really rather Slytherin.” I had to choke back my peals of laughter at the shocked faces of the room, slipping the hat over my head.

_“Well, well, well. This is interesting.”_

“Not the least because I am actually 16, a muggle, and a break from your monotonous year?

_“You are indeed 16 in mental age, however, you do indeed possess magic. Strange and strong magic, may I add.”_

I file away the ‘strange and strong magic’ part away to revisit at a different date. “So… What House?”

_“Hm… Your original thoughts of having parts belonging to different Houses equally is more or less accurate, given your age.”_

“Which is why Hogwarts sorts at age 11, because the personalities are less complex?”

_“Correct. Now, as for your House… Not Ravenclaw, I don’t think.”_

“Not Hufflepuff either. As nice as I am, working hard isn’t really my main quality.”

_“So it’s either Gryffindor or-“_

“Slytherin. I want Slytherin.”

_“Yes, however, all these plans are rather brave and bold of you and-“_

“Ambitious. It will take creativity, connections, time and cunning to pull off. All Slytherin traits.” _“Yet you believe that I will place you in Gryffindor despite this.”_

I mentally shrug. “I believe it, though I’d rather it not be true. Will it help if I casually mention a seam ripper? A fire perhaps?”

 _“That is not necessary. I am just a curious entity. Very well then. I say that you best be placed in_ SLYTHERIN!”

I grin, pulling the Sorting Hat off of me, handing it to a shocked Dumbledore. “Very much looking forward to be joining all the prestigious wizards and witches of Slytherin sir,” I say to Professor Snape, his face a blank mask.

“I will be looking forward to see what you will be bringing us, Ms. Merotaive.” And with that, robes billowing like batwings behind him, Professor Snape exited the office, but not before Dumbledore asked him to wait outside his office. Professor Snape left, followed by Professors Flitwick and Sprout. Professor McGonagall stayed behind.

“Oh, one other thing,” I say, looking at Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall. “I’ve nowhere to stay.”

Professor McGonagall frowned. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Exactly as I said. I have no family here. Anywhere. My whole life is literally in another world. I need a place to stay.”

“Ms. Merotaive, surely you do not think that we will fall for such a lie,” Professor McGonagall asked.

“It is not. There is only a week left until school begins, correct,” I ask.

“Well, yes. Why?”

“I’ll stay in the Slytherin Dorms,” I shrug. “But I need the school to supply me with all my school things.”

“Ms. Merotaive, there must be somewhere you can stay,” Dumbledore asked.

“I mean, if either Professor McGonagall or Professor Snape would be so kind, I can go to Diagon Ally to get all of my school supplies and I can take an Inheritance Test at Gringotts. Kill two birds with one stone.”

“I, unfortunately, do not have that kind of time on my hands right now,” Professor McGonagall informed me.

“That’s fine. Could Professor Snape do it then? As head of my House?”

“That is a sound arrangement, Minerva, if you will please go fetch Severus for me,” requested Dumbledore.

“Of course.” Within a few seconds, it was just me and Dumbledore.

“I’m assuming you have questions,” I say, looking directly into Dumbledore’s twinkling blue eyes.

“Very astute of you. Yes, I do indeed.”

“Well I have just a few of my own.”

“I am listening.”

“Which year will I be in,” I ask. “I am not lying when I tell you that, at least mentally, I am 16.”

“I believe you,” Dumbledore says quickly, his smile fixed on his face. “However, given that you have no magical training, you will start out with all the other first years.”

“And I don’t have to go through the sorting again, correct?”

“What do you wish to do in those regards,” Dumbledore ask, tilting his head slightly.

“I think it would make sense for me to do it again, in front of the whole school, just so I don’t seem to pop out of thin air,” I admit.

“Very well. I do have questions of my own, but they can wait. Professor Snape is here to take you to get your school supplies and to get tested.”

I stand up. “Thank you, Professor,” I say as warmly as I could muster, holding out my hand again.

He grasps it. “It has been my pleasure, Ms. Merotaive.”

“Come,” Professor Snape says. And with that, I follow him out of Dumbledore’s office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr! I'm @our-blood-is-our-ink.


	3. Chapter 3

“Thank you for agreeing to this Professor,” I say.

“It is of no consequence,” Professor Snape replies.

We settle into something between an awkward silence and a comfortable silence.

“We shall go to Gringotts first,” he instructed.

“Of course.”

We quickly arrive at the spacious building. Approaching a teller to the left, Professor Snape gave a short bow.

“May your gold flow like the blood of your enemies,” he intoned.

“May the blood of your enemies flow like your gold,” the goblin replied. “How may I be of assistance?”

“We would like to arrange for Ms. Marotaive here to take an Inheritance Test.”

“Follow me please,” the teller requested.

We followed after our guide, ending up in a small, cozy office. Sitting in front of the cherry wood desk, we waited for a goblin to appear, as our guide had swiftly left the room.

“We’re not going to find anything,” I sigh.

“That is simply not possible,” Professor Snape informed me.

I shrug. “I suppose. I’m just shocked that I actually have magic.”

“You’re a muggle-born?”

“No sir,” I reply. “I’m not from this universe.”

“Do not presume to lie to me,” warned Professor Snape.

“Never,” I swiftly respond. “I’m just stating the truth. It is up to you to believe it or not.”

“That is n-“

“I am Ironeye,” pronounced a goblin that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. “Stonemoth has informed that you are here to take an Inheritance Test?”

“Correct,” Professor Snape drawled.

“Very well then.” Ironeye promptly withdrew a silver dagger and a piece of parchment. “If you will please supply three drops of blood.”

And just like that, I wanted to throw-up. “I’m… Not good with things like this,” I admit. “It’s freely given, but it may be wiser to have someone else prick my finger for me.”

Professor Snape sighed. “I supposed you are referring to me?”

“I… well, yes sir. It would help greatly.”

He sighed again. “Very well then. Your finger, if you please.”

Hand shaking, I outstretch it towards my Professor, allowing him to make a small nick on my pinkie finger. Quickly, trying hard not to cry, I held it over the parchment. As soon as the third drop hit it, it started to glow.

“Here you are,” Ironeye said, handing Professor Snape the parchment.

As Professor Snape read it, his eyebrows rose higher and higher. “You have most… Interesting results.”

“May I see it sir,” I request.

“It is yours,” he agreed, handing me the parchment.

As I read it, I could understand why Professor Snape was surprised by it, for it read:

Name:

_Marlee Merotaive_

Blood Status:

_Redacted_

Blood Lines:

_Redacted_

Ladyships:

_Redacted_

Vaults:

_Redacted_

Abilities:

_Redacted_

Marriage Contract(s):

_Redacted_

Additional Notes:

_Please see the head of Gringotts for further information._

“I… I’m sorry. What,” I ask, turning towards Ironeye.

“Has this ever happened before,” Professor Snape inputted, correctly guessing what I was trying to ask.

“As far as I know,” Ironeye stated, “no.”

“And is it possible to meet with the head of Gringotts?”

“I apologize sir, but the head of Gringotts is not available until after Yule. Please, by all means, allow me to schedule an appointment for the young lady to meet with her.”

Professor Snape sat there quietly for a minute, then agreed. “When shall we come back?”

Ironeye smiled, showing his pointed teeth. “You may come back on the day after New Year’s at three. Does this work for you,” he inquired.

“It does.”

“Excellent, then we shall be happy to see you then. Follow me out, if you please,” Ironeye said, gesturing towards the door.

 “We will go pick up your wand now,” Professor Snape informed me.

“Okay.” I was quiet for a minute as we walked towards Ollivanders. “Sir,” I asked.

Raising an eyebrow, Professor Snape gestured for me to continue.

“Um… Do you have any theories as to why the testing results came out that way?”

“I do not,” he replied stoically.

“Oh.”

We walked into Ollivanders and it was the smell that first hit me.

It smelled like crinkled old books at the library, the weirdly satisfying dusty smell that accompanied the thought of books. It smelled like a forest filled with different species of plant and a subtle smell of something more than that.

“Hello,” said a soft voice. “Welcome to Ollivanders.”

“Mr. Ollivander, I am here to purchase a wand for my student,” Professor Snape said in way of greeting.

“Ah, yes. Every witch and wizard needs a wand. Come, let us find the correct one for you.” He gestured to the middle of the room. “Stand there please. Wand arm out.”

I made my way to the center of the room, holding out my right arm. Almost immediately the magical tape measurer flew up and started to measure not just my wand arm, but also my left leg, my nose and the distance between my eyebrows.

“That is enough,” instructed Ollivander. “Now, let’s see… Yes, yes. I do think… Here, try this one. Applewood, dragon heartstring. Eleven inches, nice and sturdy.”

He tried to hand me the wand and I made a face. “I don’t think this one is it,” I tell him.

“The wand chooses the wizard,” he insisted.

“But I already know that isn’t the one,” I gripe. “I should feel the connection to it, even before I hold it. Is that not correct?”

I hear Professor Snape shift uncomfortably behind me, but I ignore him, staring right into Ollivander’s eyes.

“That… Is true, yes,” he admitted.

“Very well. Then would it not be more prudent for me to peruse the shelves until I feel the connection?”

Professor Snape coughed this time.

“I… Well… I suppose,” Ollivander sputtered, knowing he was backed into a corner.

“Excellent,” I say with a smile. “Professor, I’ll be right back.”

“Of course,” he replied.

And with that, I went down five shelves, turned right and headed all the way to the back, where I turned left and walked slowly along the back wall. Almost immediately I felt a connection to a wand. Like he had a radar for when a wand chooses a wizard, Ollivander was suddenly at my side.

“Which one is it Ms. Merotaive,” he asked.

“This one,” I tell him decisively, taking a box from the shelf.

“Ah.” Ollivander’s eyes grow wide. “Are you quite sure it is this wand?”

“Positive. I can test a spell with it. That should prove it, right?”

“Correct. Come, let us return to the front where we won’t damage any of the other wands.”

We made our way to the front where Professor Snape was sitting down on a wooden chair.

“You’ve found a wand,” he asked.

“Yes sir.”

“Now Ms. Merotaive, if you will,” Ollivander said, handing me the wand. I took it from his grasp and immediately I felt the connection, a rush of magic being brought forth until it spewed out in a jet of silver.

“Astounding,” whisper Ollivander in a reverent tone. “Simply astounding.”

“Why,” I ask.

Ollivander’s brow furrowed. “My ancestor,” he began, “loved to experiment with wand making. This is the only experimental wand he ever produced that survived my family… arguments. The strangest thing about it is that it is cataloged only as ‘experimental’ and there is nothing else on it. I cannot tell you what it is made out of, for I simply cannot seem to recognize anything about it. Nobody has ever found this wand besides for those in my family line. And even the Ollivanders have been unable to use it.”

“Wow… That’s some history.”

“Indeed,” Professor Snape drawled. “Mr. Ollivander, if you will please direct us to the wand holsters?”

“Of course,” Ollivander said, summoning all the various types.

“I want an arm holster,” I stated.

“A wise choice,” Professor Snape agreed.

“We have dragon hide, leather and phoenix woven.”

“What’s phoenix woven,” I ask.

Ollivander gave a weird smile. “It is woven phoenix feathers.”

“Oh,” I say, feeling a little foolish. “Um… Phoenix woven please.”

“A good decision,” approved Ollivander, handing me the holster. As I place it on my right arm, adjusting it so it fits correctly, Professor Snape is by the counter, paying the 43 galleons, 7 sickles and 2 knuts that was the cost of my wand and holster. Professor Snape finished paying just as I slipped my wand into my holster.

“Are we ready to go now sir,” I ask him.

“We are. We shall stop next at Flourish and Blotts.”

After an hour or so of shopping, Professor Snape dropped me off in the Slytherin common room, Dumbledore forced to concede that I had nowhere else to go.

“I should hope,” he said in quiet voice, “that you realize that it is an incredible privilege to stay at any point over summer break here at Hogwarts?”

“Yes sir,” I reply. “For whatever absurd reason not even those who had abusive homes are allowed to stay here over summer break. Go figure.”

Professor Snape started to death glare me.

“And how,” he drawled, “would you know this?”

“I told you,” I sigh impatiently. “I’m from a different universe. This whole world that we are currently occupying does not exist there in anything but books.”

Professor Snape didn’t deign to answer, as he merely stalked away, his robes billowing about him.

It was finally September 1st and Dumbledore had me floo to the Burrow to go onto the train with the Weasleys, as he didn’t want me to stand out as someone who hadn’t gone onto the Hogwarts Express.

“It’s so nice to meet you dear,” Mrs. Weasley greeted me warmly as the twins clattered down the stairs.

“And it’s lovely to finally meet you,” I reply.

Distracted by Ginny who was whining about being able to attend Hogwarts, Mrs. Weasley didn’t take any notice to my seemingly odd sentence.

“Are we all ready to go then,” she asked.

A chorus of ‘yes mum’ answered her.

“Alright,” she said enthusiastically. “Let’s get going. Percy, you first.”

I quickly searched the crowds for Harry, knowing that he would be lost as to where to go. Spotting him, I make my way over.

“Hey Harry,” I say, waving my hand. “Over here.”

Grinning and looking relieved, he made his way over to where I was standing with the Weasley’s.

“Did you just say Harry,” Ron asked, looking amazed.

“Yes,” I reply. “Don’t act weird though. Treat him like a normally person.”

Ron scoffed but I ignored him.

“Hi Marlee,” Harry said quietly, coming up right in front of me.

“How was your week?”

“It was fine.”

“Your family leave you alone okay?”

“Um… Yeah.”

“Good.” I smile at him. “We’re about to go to Platform 9 3/4. Care to join us?”

“Please.”

“Alright, run right through that brick wall, as crazy as it sounds,” I tell him. “For whatever weird reason, wizard cannot seem to use logic.”

Harry, Ron and I settled into an empty compartment, Ron seemingly more interested in Tom Riddle and the night he ‘died’.

“Ron, lay off,” I tell him gently. “I mean, do you remember anything from when you were one years old?”

“No, but he’s-“

“Human. Not a god. He’s a human being. Sorry Harry,” I say, turning towards him. “I know you’re here. You can speak for yourself.”

“It’s fine,” he assured me.

“Anything from the trolley dears?”

Harry was quick to purchase at least half the cart.

“Pass me a chocolate frog, will you,” I ask him.

“Sure,” he said, handing it over to me.

Ron looked over at Harry’s stock pile of candy longingly.

I hide a chuckle. “And I think Ron want’s some too, if you please.”

“Okay,” Harry agreed with a shrug.

Ron’s eyes widened. “Thanks mate!”

That’s when Draco Malfoy slid open the compartment door.

“Ah, excellent,” I say before Draco could make a fool of himself. “Scion Malfoy, a pleasure to meet you at last.” I rise and give a small curtsy, earning myself a bow in return. Thank god. I had been going on fanfictions I had read to guide my decision on how I would act with Draco.

“I apologize,” he smoothly says, “I do not know who you are.”

“Marlee Merotaive.”

“It is an honor to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise,” I smile, trying very hard not to break out into laughter at Ron’s shocked face. “May introduce my companions, Lord Potter and Scion Weasley?” I gestured to Harry and Ron when I mentioned their names.

Draco, being a Malfoy, is wise enough not to say anything bad against the two. It may have also helped that I death glared him not to.

“Lord Potter, Scion Weasley,” Draco drawled, holding out a hand to Harry first, who shook it and, hesitantly, held out a tentative hand to Ron, who, just as doubtful looking, took it.

“Lord Potter,” Harry asked, looking at me.

I smile. “You are the last of the Potter bloodline,” I tell him. “That makes you lord.”

“Um…”

“I’m sure Scion Malfoy will be delighted to teach you all about the wizarding laws,” I assure him. I turn back around to face Draco. “Does that sound good?”

Both boys looked at each other and nodded.

“Excellent,” I say, clapping my hands. “Now, why don’t you join us? Do sit down,” I insist.

“Is there room for Crabbe and Goyle,” Draco asked.

“Of course,” I agree.

The three of them quickly file in.

“So what House do you think you’ll be in,” questioned Harry.

“I want to be in Slytherin,” I tell him.

“Slytherin?!” Ron looks shocked.

“Well, yes. Did you know that Merlin was a Slytherin? And you do realize that stereotyping Houses is a poor idea. Would it be fair to call all Gryffindors idiots or all Hufflepuffs pushovers?”

“I… Well… No,” admitted Ron grudgingly.

“Exactly,” I agree. “I want to be in Slytherin because I feel like I could grow the most there. That’s all that should matter.”

“I guess,” grumbled Ron.

“Well I want to be in Slytherin too. I know I will be,” Draco announced.

“Snake,” muttered Ron.

“Harry, what House do you want to be in?”

“I think that I wa-“

“Have any of you seen a toad,” a bossy voice asked.

“Ah, Hermione,” I say, rising to my feet. “Is Neville behind you?”

She looked startled.

“Who said my name,” a nervous voice inquired.

“I did Neville,” I reply cheerfully. “Why don’t the both of you come on in? Trevor will show up, don’t worry too much about that toad.”

“I… Well…”

“Oh, please,” I insist. “I would love to get to know more first years. We were just talking about Houses. Right Harry? You were saying that you wanted to be in what? Gryffindor?”

At Harry’s name both Hermione and Neville came in and sat down, staring wide-eyed.

“Yeah,” Harry said, clearly very self-conscious of the audience I had gathered.

“Why,” asked Hermione.

“Well, I don’t know… I guess because my mum and dad were in it,” Harry answered quietly.

“An excellent reason to be sure, however, what do you feel like you would gain?”

Harry shrugs. I smile, turning to Ron.

“I suppose you’ll be a Gryffindor too?”

Hermione caught my choice of words.

“Will be? None of us knows until we’re sorted.”

“Besides for me,” I correct her. “I know that everyone here besides for me, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle will be in Gryffindor. The rest of us are Slytherin.”

“But you can’t possible know that! I read in-“

“ _Hogwarts: A History_ ,” I finish. “Yeah, but I’m not from here. I know what’s going to happen in six years from now. Remember Harry? Horcruxs?”

“Horcruxs,” interjected Hermione.

I grin at Draco. “He should know,” I say, pointing a finger at Draco. “His dad’s keeping a piece of Tommy’s soul in a diary. Ginny’ll get it next year.”

“Ginny,” Ron sharply asked.

“Ginny,” I agreed amiably. “But I shan’t say no more.”

“Why not,” whined Hermione.

I look at her, giving her my patent ‘did-you-really-just-say-that’ look.  “Because knowing ones’ own future, Ms. Granger, is a dangerous thing. For instance, if I convince Harry to join Slytherin, he would end up there due to the Horcrux that enables him to talk to snakes.”

Draco jerked up in his seat. “Potter’s a Parseltongue,” he asked, shocked.

“No. Voldemort is.” I ignore the flinches. “And Voldemort accidently left a piece of his soul in Harry. So…” I shrug.

“That’s not possible,” Neville whispered, staring at Harry with a scared look on his face.

“Oh honestly,” I cry out, once more stealing Hermione’s catchphrase. “Harry is fully in charge and will always be fully in charge.”

Of course, one thing led to another and I soon found myself explaining where I was really from. Shockingly, Draco was silently nodding along once I mentioned my world. But I didn’t take too much notice, as Hermione, naturally, bombarded me with questions, which I gladly answered.

We approached the castle in the boats, and I exchange an excited look with Draco, Harry and Neville, as we were all on the same boat together. Once we get up to the actual castle, Hagrid uses the doorknocker to announce our arrival. Professor McGonagall promptly opens up the door.

“Professor,” I smile.

She raises an eyebrow, though I could tell she wasn’t annoyed with me. “Follow me into the room where you will wait to be sorted.” All the other first years were clearly in awe of everything, although I couldn’t be bothered.

We came into the room, and as soon as Professor McGonagall left, the ghosts came through.

“Baron, sir,” I called out. I was immediately was face to face with the infamous ghost. “Pleasure to meet my House ghost sir,” I tell him, grinning. He frowned.

“No one knows what House they will be in until they are sorted.”

“Not unless you casually mention a seam ripper,” I reply. I got a grim, twisted smile in return.

“I am looking forward to seeing all the things you will accomplish for the Slytherin House,” the Bloody Baron agreed. He then disappeared, floating off with the other ghosts.

“The sorting shall now commence,” announced Professor McGonagall. “I shall hope that you are credit to your House, rather than an embarrassment. Points will be awarded for good behavior and they will be deducted for any rule breaking.”

“For instance,” I say, “the House Cup is just a silly competition to get all the students to behave so the teachers don’t have to deal with a few hundred magical kids causing issues. That probably will earn whatever House I’m sorted into about twenty points. Would I be incorrect in that estimate Professor?”

Oh, now she was annoyed.

“You are not incorrect Ms. Merotaive,” she snapped. “Twenty points from Slytherin.”

I grin. That’s when Professor McGonagall realized her mistake.

“That is not to say I assume that you will be in Slytherin, I-“

“No worries,” I assure her. “I actually want to be a snake. In any case, we really ought to get a move on, no?”

Even more irritated, she gestured for us to follow her out of the backroom and onto the raised platform for the Sorting.

“Granger, Hermione.”

GRYFFINDOR!

I, once more, led the first years into a round of applause, just as I had been doing since ‘Abbot, Hanna’.

Quickly enough, it got around to me, and I smiled and confidently walked towards the Sorting hat. Taking it from Professor McGonagall, I slip the hat over my eyes for a second time.

“You’re not going to change it, are you,” I ask it.

 _“No, you are well suited for_ SLYTHERIN.”

I was pleased to note that the first years on stage were still clapping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every low-key that you're actually still alive?  
> ...  
> ...  
> Yeah, me neither.  
> I'm @our-blood-is-our-ink on Tumblr, come say hi!

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what y'all think, this is my first fan fiction that I felt brave enough to share.


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